


Tony Stark Loses his Heart to a Duckling

by starspangledsprocket



Series: Me, You and Peter, Too [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Ducklings - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledsprocket/pseuds/starspangledsprocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to keep their son from realising his beloved pet duck has laid eggs turns out to be a lot harder than either Steve or Tony had imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Stark Loses his Heart to a Duckling

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday fic for the lovely icangoonallnight. Hope you love it, baby, and happy birthday! :D

“I cannot believe this has happened,” Tony shook his head. “I _cannot believe_ -”

“I want to know _how_ it happened,” Steve agreed. “We've always been so careful with her -”

“She's never even seen another duck!” Tony whined, staring forlornly at the five eggs nestled firmly in his sock drawer. “We live fifty stories up, Steve! How, _how_ -”

“Maybe she got up onto the roof?” Steve suggested, though he didn't seem too sure about it. “Flocks fly past all the time; maybe she had herself a little fun.”

“I'd like to believe she's more sensible than that,” Tony replied, and then shrugged when Steve rolled his eyes at him. “What? She's smart. She knows the risks of being a single mother -”

“You're ridiculous,” Steve smiled fondly, and Tony felt his heart beating quicker in his chest at the sight. “What are we going to do with them?”

“I have no idea,” Tony shook his head, turning back to the very pressing problem in his sock drawer. “There's no way we can take care of five more ducklings, Steve, it's impossible.”

“I know,” Steve sighed. “I just... it feels kinda wrong to get rid of them. They're Jemima's babies.”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted quietly. Then, sighing, he added, “Whatever we do, we absolutely cannot let the kid find out -”

“Find out what, Daddy?” came Peter's little voice from the door, and before either of them could tell him not to, he was padding into the room.

“Peter, honey, no, go get ready for school -”

But the seven year old managed to slip around Tony and peek right into the sock drawer. As soon as his eyes landed on the eggs in there, his whole face lit up and he let out a little gasp of joy.

“Oh m'goodness!” he whispered, dropping down onto his knees to look more closely at the eggs. “Daddy, Papa, Jemima laid eggs!”

“Yeah, buddy,” Steve grimaced. “Yeah, she did.”

“Are they... are they eating eggs, or baby eggs?” Peter asked. They'd tried to explain to him how eggs worked, but he still couldn't quite wrap his little mind around it yet; he was convinced that there were two separate kinds of eggs – those for eating, and those with babies inside.

They hadn't quite been able to break it to him properly.

This was their chance, though. If they told him they were eating eggs, they'd be able to get rid of them without much of a fuss. It was the right thing to do, after all – they really couldn't take care of five more ducklings. They'd barely managed to raise Jemima.

But Peter's face, so innocent, so filled with frail hope, undid any thought of lying in Tony's head. Damn, the kid's puppy-dog eyes were going to be the death of him.

“They're... they're baby eggs, Pete,” he sighed, and shrugged helplessly when Steve sent him an alarmed look. “We're... we're not sure what we're going to do with them yet, though -”

But the damage was already done. Peter sprang to his feet, squeaking excitedly, and did a weird little shuffle dance before throwing his arms around Steve's legs.

“Baby eggs, Papa! Baby eggs!” he cried. “We're gonna have more babies!”

“Maybe we can sneak them away in the dead of night?” Tony suggested weakly, but Steve just gave him a very unimpressed look.

\---

Since the news had broken, they had barely managed to get Peter out of their room. When he wasn't at school, eating, or doing his homework, he was sat by Tony's sock drawer, usually talking to the eggs about what a wonderful time they were all going to have together once they had hatched.

Peter refused to sleep anywhere other than their room, which meant he was back in their bed (which led to a sexless, very cranky Tony). He'd already picked out names for the damn things, too, from what Tony could tell, so any hope of giving them away was well and truly out of the window.

And so it was the same for three weeks. _Three whole weeks,_ and by the end of it Tony was surprised he hadn't jumped Steve's bones in the middle of the kitchen. But then, finally, there came an excited yell from their bedroom one evening, and Peter came running in at top speed, flushed with excitement.

“They hatching!” he cried happily, and then shook his head and corrected himself. “They're hatching, Daddy, Papa, there's cracks!”

“Finally,” Tony sighed, ignoring Steve's pointed look as he hauled himself to his feet.

They had expected the eggs to hatch within an hour, maybe two, but it took a further two whole days for all five ducklings to actually break free. The first one to hatch was, as Peter had proclaimed upon its birth, named Fredrick. Tony had no idea where he'd got that name, but he had insisted when they questioned it. The next one was named Grace; the third duckling, which hatched almost twelve hours after the first two, was named Daisy. The fourth duckling, who managed to get a gross, yolk-like substance on a pair of Tony's expensive socks, was dubbed Gucci because of it. The last duckling, who they realised pretty early on was going to be the runt of the litter, took its sweet time fully emerging from its shell. Tony had secretly thought more than once that the little thing might not make it through the birth, but finally, after two days of sitting on their bedroom floor, the aptly named Ducky was born.

“I ran out of names,” Peter admitted quietly as Tony gently picked the last bits of shell from Ducky's damp head.

“Well, Ducky's just as good a name as any,” he replied, placing the tiny thing on the floor in front of them. The other ducklings were mostly on their feet, waddling around after Jemima. “It's what she is, after all.”

He had a feeling the other ducks were currently under his and Steve's bed, so he tried to gently tap Ducky over to join them. She still seemed a little disorientated and wobbly, however, so he sighed and scooped her up to place on his lap.

“I think this one will need a little more help, Pete,” he hummed, stroking a gentle finger across the top of her head. “Remember, like Jemima needed help when we first got her?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter nodded, leaning forwards on his hands and knees to watch avidly as Ducky got her bearings.

“Hey, she finally made it?” came Steve's voice from the door, and Tony looked up to watch as he came in, carrying a little bowl of water and a plate of what looked like soft, peeled fruit.

“Steve, meet Ducky,” Tony hummed, holding her up for Steve to see.

“Ducky?”

“It's relevant to her interests,” Tony shrugged as Peter got to his feet to take a closer look at what Steve was holding. “You figure out what to feed them?”

“Me and JARVIS googled it,” Steve nodded. “We're supposed to keep them properly hydrated with water. JARVIS put in an order for some special newborn food mix, but it says they'll be okay with some mushy fruit for now. Did you know they don't have teeth yet?”

“Really?” Peter asked, excited.

“Yep, no teeth,” Steve confirmed, crouching down next to their bed. He peered under it, obviously following the incessant cheeping that had started over the past few days. “Pete, you wanna put these under the bed for them? Not too deep – don't scare them.”

“I can do it, Papa!” Peter nodded, and carefully took the bowl of water first.

While they were doing that, Tony turned back to Ducky. She seemed to be a little more with it now, cheeping sleepily in the cradle of his hands. Damn, she was tiny. He had thought the others were small, but she was definitely the smallest. The tips of her wings were dark, too, unlike the others.

Oh no.

“Steve,” he whispered, eyes widening. “Steve, oh my God -”

“What?” Steve asked, head coming up. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's...” Tony looked back down at Ducky. “She's _perfect_ , Steve. Look at her.”

Steve stared at him for a moment like he had gone mad, and then he huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “I'm pretty sure the ducklings are the ones supposed to imprint, Tony.”

Tony just grumbled under his breath and pressed a soft kiss to Ducky's head.

Steve didn't know what he was talking about. 

 


End file.
